


the place you need to reach

by BiAndReadyToCry



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Communication, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Polyamory Negotiations, Sharing a Bed, Trans Male Character, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiAndReadyToCry/pseuds/BiAndReadyToCry
Summary: Once upon a time, long ago... three chucklefucks— sorry,royalchucklefucks— couldn't quite figure out their feelings.
Relationships: Brian David Gilbert/Patrick Gill/Griffin McElroy, Patrick Gill/Griffin McElroy, Simone de Rochefort/Jenna Stoeber
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24
Collections: Polygolidays Gift Exchange 2019!





	the place you need to reach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [electrictrashcan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrictrashcan/gifts).

> title from "arsonist's lullabye" by hozier. happy holidays, electrictrashcan!

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”

Waking up to a smile this soft almost lessened the blow of the nap cut _ far _ too short. Especially when the dreams one had were of the same person waking one up.

“C’mon, your highness,” a playful nudge accompanied the statement, “it’s time for your… thing. Uh… the thing—”

“You’re the absolute worst knight in all the land,” Prince Brian David Gilbert fake-scowled as he rubbed his eyes awake, adjusting.

Considering, the other man tapped his chin thoughtfully, before he replied, “That’s kind of wild, considering I’m not even a knight.”

“Ah! How could I forget. Get a job, Pat Gill.”

The man in question snorted. “I,” he began haughtily, “am a jack of all trades.”  
  


“Yet you’re a master of none, _ and _ you’re a pain in my ass,” Brian hmpfed and braced himself to sit up.

“Fair enough, but it’s coming out of my hide if you miss your thing with, uh—”

“Whose day is it? Oh, Griffin, right?” A dopey smile took over Brian’s face as he dragged himself to his closet. Thank fuck he didn’t pass out in his binder this time.

“He’s yet to make me laugh, so.”

“Yeah, but you think piss jokes are the pinnacle of comedy.”  
  


“Am I wrong, though?”

“Go fuck yourself.”  
  


“Fuck me yourself, coward,” slipped out Patrick’s lips until he had realized who exactly he was talking to. “Uh… your highness.” Yep, that fixed it.

Brian bared his teeth jokingly before he said, “You are, and I cannot stress this enough, not funny.”

Eh.

“You seem to think the Mcelboys _ are_, so up and at em, kiddo!”

“You’re, like, seven years older than me, pal, calm down. I’ll get settled, go _ away_,” he dragged the end of the word out.

Patrick mockingly fake-bowed before blowing a kiss.

“Don’t have too much fun without me!”

_ Never _, Brian thought to himself before he shook himself out of it and got ready to meet up with the other man who starred in his dreams.

  
  


* * *

“Hey, Brian!” Griffin chirped and fell into a half-bow. “Have you eaten yet today?”

Eyes narrowed, Brian pointed at the other man.

“Is this the beginning of a bit?”

Griffin winked and waved it off. “Never, your majesty.”

“Gross,” Brian scrunched up his nose. “Carry on.”

The jester carried on.

“Because, as you can see here, I clearly have a banana in my pocket—”

Brian’s only response was an amused huff of air.

“I know, it’s nice to see you too,” Griffin continued before whipping out an actual banana. “I’ve been starving, to be honest, and I hope you wouldn’t mind if I had a little snack, your highness—”

He _ bit _ into the banana, peel still on and everything.

Eyes huge, Brian snorted.

“So you like your bananas with the wrapper on?”

“Only in certain situations, sir,” Griffin winked.

A cough at the doorway interrupted what could have potentially led to an intricate ritual.

“Bri,” Laura called out, and he hid his face in his arms.

His voice muffled, he preemptively shot back, “No.”

“I need to talk with you in the hall for a second. Hi, Griffin,” her voice was soft and friendly.

  
  


“Your majesty,” he bowed, much more deferential than he would for Brian. She waved her arm around dismissively, indicating _ none of that formal shit right now _ and _ I know you want to bone my younger brother _ and _ I feel the romantic feelings in this room right now and I vague accept it _.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of projection on Griffin’s part. So sue him.

“I’ll be off, then!” He chimed in, taking his half-eaten banana as he edged out of the door.

Laura approached Brian and mused, “Can’t believe you have two boyfriends… two! Save some for the rest of us!”

Brian let out a huff of amusement.

“I’m not dating either of them—”

“Are you sure about that?”

“—and my feelings aren’t reciprocated, and that’s _ fine_, Laura,” he stressed. “Shit doesn’t always work out.”

“Well,” the always pragmatic Laura tapped her chin thoughtfully, “have you talked to them about how you feel?”

“Absolutely not and I have no plans to do so, thank you very much!”

She rolled her eyes.

“Fine then, keep your secrets. But you need a break, Brian. All this legislature is stressing both of us the fuck out; I got you.”

He very solemnly rested a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

“I would die for you.”

“Don’t do that. Go off and do a quest or something now.”

With a quick nod and a patdown of his pockets (yep, gold in abundance), he hustled himself out of the castle to go on an adventure.

Weird flex to only tell your sister and no one else, but okay.

(Laura, it seemed, had some letters to send. This was a matter of utmost importance, of course.)

* * *

Griffin took one last look at the map before he slumped down on the tree stump.  
  


“So, uh, any possible way your wolfy senses could figure out where the Prince went?”  
  


Pat’s face paled and went taut.  
  


“What the fuck, dude, you _ know _ ?”  
  


With a withering look, Griffin said, “You’re not exactly subtle, Pat. Flashing your fangs and popping claws all over the place, being the worst stablehand in all the land, basically nutting anytime someone pets your hair—”  
  


Pat hissed, “Fuck off, that’s a perfectly normal reaction, and I haven’t had any complaints so far—”  
  


“_So _ not the point, dude. Besides, I knew a guy who could shift into a crow. You’re just a little bit bigger than that.”  
  


Pat gawked. “Oh, so you’re just _ asking _ for me to kill you in your sleep then, or…?”  
  


Griffin looked Patrick up and down, a glint in his eye, before he retorted, “Nah, I could probably take you in a fight.”  
  


“That’s not an answer to my fucking question, and— wait. _ What? _ ” Pat looks shocked. “No way you could take me.”  
  


_ Well, as far as ‘taking you’ goes… _ Griffin’s traitorous mind suggested.  
  


_ Nope. Not the time to be horny on main, _ he chastised himself.  
  


As he rolled up a sleeve incredibly un-intimidatingly, Griffin tilted his head.  
  


“Nah,” he nodded, “I could.”  
  


Wanting nothing more to prove him wrong (and maybe kiss him a bit— wait, what?), Patrick pounced on Griffin, boxing at his ears.  
  


“You’re not even shifted, you overgrown puppy,” Griffin huffed out somewhat affectionately as he ducked the other man’s blows. “C’mon, man, not the face.”  
  


Patrick paused for a moment to stick out his tongue and snark back, “It’d be an improvement, I think,” before he crowded the other man up against a sturdy tree.  
  


“Rude,” Griffin breathed out, their foreheads touching and his hands on Patrick’s waist.  
  


“Got ya.”  
  


Griffin hummed and said, “It would seem so,” before he started to rub small circles, the movement sending a shiver up Patrick’s spine.  
  


“Wha-at are you doing there, bud?”

“Do you— do you want me to stop?” inquired Griffin, his voice softened.

Patrick, despite being the one doing the pinning, felt rather like a specimen under a microscope.

“We’re here to look for the prince,” Patrick’s voice was nearly silent, even to the other man, as close as they were. “I don’t want to get distracted.”

A wave of guilt washed over Griffin. “Right, my bad. Who knows if he’s in danger right now while we… get into shenanigans.”

After he took a look at Patrick’s distressed face, he tacked on, “Not too much danger, obviously! He can take care of himself. He’ll be fine, Pat. I’m sure of it.”

* * *

Meanwhile, not too far away, the Prince stumbled on the gnarled roots of a tree that was planted long before he was born, and it will stay until long after his inevitable death. We all return to the roots, one way or another.

So, Brian was cursing out his stupidly expensive shoes (not that he really had a feel for that sort of thing, being royalty and all) for leading him astray from the path on this quest of self-discovery before he realized that, while he did pack his favorite tambourine, he did not in fact pack any food. With plenty of gold on hand for lodging, he, miraculously, came across a cottage deeper in the woods than he had ever ventured.

Standing by the entrance mat (a garish woven material that was meticulously embroidered with the words ‘Begone, Thot’ in thread that seemingly shimmered in the setting sun), Brian braced himself to knock on the heavy door.

“Hello?” He called out. “Anyone home?”

After a moment, someone responded, “Not if you’re here to collect my taxes. Otherwise, maybe. State your name and purpose.”

Brian had prepared for this moment and he’d be damned if a mysterious cottage that could talk terrified him out of his wits.

“I’m David Gill! Seem to have gotten a bit lost, and I was hoping I could possibly—”

The door swung open, and a woman probably several years older than him scanned him up and down.

“—stay the night?”

_ Nice to know the cottage isn’t sentient, _ he thought to himself before tacking on, _ probably _.

Her arms were crossed, and her voice was quiet when she inquired once more, “Name and purpose.”  
  


Another voice echoed from inside the house before he could answer.

“Oh, sweetie, is that him? Let the poor thing in.”

A wave of fondness rolled over the woman’s face, and she quirked an eyebrow.

“Get in, then, kid. Appears you’ve got business to attend to.”

Brian was uneasy for a moment, his ‘stranger danger’ instinct finally kicking in.

“Uhhh…”  
  


“Come in and talk to the missus. There might be food in it for you if you do.”

Welp, self-preservation never lasted long in the face of a potentially hungry night.

As Brian carefully stepped into the cottage, he did _ not _ notice the welcome mat’s text change to “It’s about damn time.” 

As soon as he stepped foot into the cottage, the air smelled woodsy and like pine, herbs strung up along the walls and a few skulls and bones scattered around. Presumably, the speaker from earlier was stirring something on the stove while a much larger cauldron bubbled in the middle of the main space. She dialed down the knob after double checking the stove, and, as she wiped her hands on her customized and bedazzled apron, introductions began.

“I’m Jenna, this is Simone, and we’re the witches who live in this neck of the woods! Want some soup? Warning, it’s barely fit for human consumption.”

“Witches?” Brian squeaked out.

A crease formed on Jenna’s brow and she muttered to herself, confused, “The visions didn’t mention he didn’t support this lifestyle but--”

“No!” Brian rushed to correct himself. “I just— I didn’t know there were any left in this kingdom. I thought my d-- the king,” he corrected himself, “had outlawed magic.”

Simone rolled her eyes. “Yeah, _ obviously _. We don’t live in— actually,” her face turned, considering, and she continued, “We would probably still live in an old cottage in the woods if magic was decriminalized, just for the aesthetic, but we’d be able to actually afford half the ingredients we need for potions.”

Jenna nodded half-heartedly before she took her turn looking Brian up and down, peering behind her glasses and her painted blue lips pursed in thought.

_ Please don’t use me for ingredients _ ran through his mind on a loop, hoping it would transmit.

“Come sit down with me for a second,” she finally said. “Don’t eat the soup, we’re gonna get takeout in a bit. What’s on your mind? Your aura is all kinds of fucked up right now.”

* * *

(A few miles away, two grown-ass men were bickering over a sleeping roll.

“You only brought one?”

“We can just share, Pat.”

“I’m literally a wolf, you’re going to overheat.”

“Yeah, no, I understand that you’re hot but--”

“Gay.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“...”

“Yes, of course you can get in. Cuddle me the fuck up, bro.”

“I’m going to bitch about your sweaty feet so much.”

“I expect nothing less. Also, fuck off.”)

* * *

“They’re both so smart and funny and handsome and I don’t know what to do!”

The spooky comfort of the cottage was enough to have broken down Brian’s walls, which caused him to not only share his current plight. In fact, one could argue (and Simone would!), he had overshared the situation.

  
"Okay, but what do you want? Who?" Jenna pressed.

His face is open when he replied softly, “I… don’t know. Do I have to pick?”

“Nope!” Jenna waved an arm around, tattoos peeking out from her extremely cool and punk rock outfit. “Stay here in the meanwhile.”  
  


“Uh…” Simone interjected. “I’m kicking you out after two weeks, and I fully expect you to help out with chores, too.”

“Sounds good,” Brian’s smile returned in almost full force. “A fortnight of labor, and I’ll be outta here.”

Simone appraised him for another moment and then clapped her hands together, only once.

“Alrighty then!” Picking up an abandoned bed roll, she tilted her chin to the hallway that seemed far too long for how small the cottage seemed. 

“Where we dropping, boys?”

* * *

“Hey, I’m hungry.”

“Hi, hungry. I’m Pat,” was the response Griffin got, a shit-eating grin taking over Patrick’s face for a moment.

“No job security these days!” Griffin is faux-aghast. “You could easily replace me as a jester.”

“You’re, apparently, buff enough to be a knight, you’ll be fine.”

Griffin’s face flushed at the compliment and tried to shake it off.

“Uh, food.”

Patrick exhaled sharply, telling Griffin all he needed to know.

“Wait a second, man, you didn’t pack any food?”  
  


Pat simply raised an eyebrow defensively.  
  


“Were you not in the same rush as me to find the prince as soon as possible?”  
  


“Yeah, but at least I packed a sleeping roll!”  
  


“Yes,” Patrick replied dryly. “A single sleeping roll. Fit for one single human man.”  
  


Griffin reddened. “I didn’t expect—” _ What happened last night, how much I would like having you pressed up against me. I didn’t expect you to come along with me in the first place, or even us going on this adventure, _ period _ . It’s more than I ever could have hoped for; I just wish Brian was here with us. _  
  


“It’s fine, I can figure something out tonight,” Pat continued, bringing Griffin back to reality. “Also, let’s find a tavern or something nearby.”

“... Not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re in the middle of the forest. Not like there’s a fantasy multi-department grocery and home goods warehouse with a food court nearby.”

“See, I was gonna bitch at you for giving up so easily, but that was such a specific description, I’m legally obligated to make fun of you,” Patrick jeered, but, like, softly and with emotions.

Griffin batted at him with his hands and stuck out his tongue, like the grown-ass man he is.

“Fuck you, dude!”

Not going to fall into the same trap he had stumbled into with Brian earlier, Patrick just bit his lip and so pointedly ignored that response that he didn’t realize he had entered a circular pavilion.

“Uh, Pat…” Griffin tried to tug on the back of his tunic.

“What?” 

“This is definitely a faerie circle. We’re going to be trapped forever here.”

“Actually,” an unfamiliar voice chirped monotonously, somehow, “that myth varies from region to region.”

“Okay, well, I’m literally a clown for hire, so my apologies for not being up to date on all of,” Griffin waved his hands around emphatically, “_ this _.”

Patrick hissed under his breath, “We in danger?”

“I dunno, maybe, why— _put that shit away! _” Griffin replied quietly, firmly placing a hand on the back of Patrick’s neck when he noticed a claw or two popping out. A sharp exhale and a shiver was the only response he got in return.

The fae did a dorky hand sign and blinked.

“I come in peace. You two are the ones who broke in.”

Patrick concentrated on reversing the beginnings of a shift and turned to the weapon that had never failed him: his _ words _, or whatever it is they teach you in school.

“Broke in? This is literally a random patch of land, I—”

Griffin hid his face in the hand not laid on Patrick.

“Just because we’re not in immediate danger doesn’t mean you should immediately start shit, Pat—”

Patrick whipped around and jabbed a finger at Griffin’s chest. “Shut up, man.”

“I think the fuck not,” he indignantly responded, and they two devolved into bickering.

After a solid several minutes of this, the fae coughed loudly, trying to get their attention.

“Uh, yeah,” she interjected. “Hi, my name is Allegra, do _ not _ tell me yours or else I’m contractually obligated to curse you, and I’m _ really _ not vibing with that right now. What are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for a guy,” Griffin bopped Pat on the head and turned to face the fae— Allegra, she had said.

She mimed a toast and said, “Me fucking too.”

“Uh, no, but big mood,” Patrick huffed out. “A friend of ours is missing and we’re searching for him.”

Allegra sent Griffin a knowing look. “No food?” He shrugged and mouthed, _Apparently so._

With a nod, Allegra gestured to the human sized benches alongside the circle. Neither of the adventurers sat down, and she continued.

“See, my normal deal is you eat the food, I curse you and steal your name, identity and credit score. That being said,” she scrunched her face up adorably, “I can’t pass as a white boy or a werewolf, so. But you,” a finger pointed towards Patrick, “seem to be especially blessed, for some reason, leaving you off-limits.”

“Beyond being a werewolf? Fuck, Pat, what kind of shenanigans do you even get up to—”

Completely ignoring the man next to him, Patrick looked Allegra directly in the eyes.

“Charles?” He asked, quietly, and she snapped her fingers in recognition.

The memory of his brief tenure as a stablehand flashed through Patrick’s mind, as he remembered a noble and furry motherfucker he rescued from the rafters years ago. Half-cat, half-something completely unknown to him, he took care of the creature, who had been harmed, after he sensed a kindred spirit. Stupid, old, didn’t give a fuck— everything one could want in an elderly cat-being that lived in your flat for a few months. The two bonded, not quite familiars, but as friends, and the day Charles had to return home was a sad one. Pat still remembered the scratchy lick on his chin, leaving behind a soft white spot on his scruff, and the feeling of gratitude that had washed over him.

“Yeah,” Allegra interrupted his train of thought, “We call him an elder deity but, like, whatever. He was your pet, briefly, and he entrusted with you a single blessing: safe passage. Or, uh, two, if you include the surly attitude. I definitely cannot fuck with your sense of being, so go on ahead, man.”

Griffin sent Pat an unrecognizable look before he turned and went, “Can’t believe you kept a cat in the castle and never, not once, let me give him pets and scritches.”

Allegra seconded solemnly, “He does love his scritches,” to which Patrick nodded, and the fae clapped her hands a single time.

“Well then! I’ll be off, good luck, be gay and do crime,” she tossed her hair before pointing between the both of them. “Seriously, figure your shit out. For fuck’s sake.”

With a poof, she disappeared, leaving behind a small picnic basket.

Hunger overriding his common sense, Griffin knelt to examine it.

“Any of it edible, or..”

Griffin nodded, and held up a note left in the basket full of energy bars and fancy cheese boards and, like, caviar.

> “none of this is gonna tie you to the circle— i actually cannot emphasize how much i want you to leave!!! that being said, have a nice journey :-) hope you find your boy!”

* * *

Brian placed down the live raccoon and the sprig and a half of rosemary in his hands and turned to Jenna.

“I think… I know what I want. Or, who, rather.”

Jenna smiled warmly and Simone placed her knife down.

“It’s about time! Good timing, they’re on their way right now.”

“Uh, wait, what—”

“The future waits for no one, Brian David Gilbert,” Jenna smiled cryptically and he sputtered indignantly.

“Hey, I came up with a fake name and everything!”

Simone patted him on the back.

“You tried, and that’s what matters. But she’s literally magic.”

Fair enough.

A loud knock on the door had Jenna courtesy-hustle to the door to find the two men, wide eyed and out of breath.

“We’re looking for our friend, do you— oh!” Patrick ran inside and reached for Brian’s hands, looking him over to see if he was hurt somehow.

“We… we didn’t know if you were coming back, Bri,” Griffin stressed, out of breath.

Eyes wide, Brian softly rested a hand on each of the other’s shoulder.

“I just needed a break, I thought Laura covered for me.”

Pat frowned.

“Laura was the one who told us to go look for you, Brian.”

Behind them, Simone and Jenna whispered to each other.

“Laura Kathryn? The one who sent you the note?” Simone inquired.

Jenna shot her a Look.

  
Her wife clarified, “No, I know your powers told you he was coming, but L. K. was the one who told you his name wasn’t fucking David Gill.”

“I really like you both and I want to go steady,” Brian blurted out loudly.

Both Griffin and Patrick were visibly taken aback as they tried to process this.

“I’ve, uh, been in love with you for years,” Griffin replied sheepishly.

“Big same,” Patrick said.

Brian’s smile was luminous.

“Oh! Okay, awesome. Can I, like, kiss you, or—”

“YES,” Griffin said loudly.

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” Pat said, smile almost aching and overwhelmed with fondness as his boyfriends’ lips met.

“Alright now, get out of my house, you fucking fiends,” Simone shooed the three of them away, and Jenna huffed out a laugh at her wife’s antics. 

“Ecstatic it all worked out but I have potions to make and people to do. Out!”

Brian, still riding the high of _ they like me they like me they like me _, lowered his voice and whispered to Patrick and Griffin alike.

“As soon as I get my hands on you, get ready for me to—”

* * *

“—Fuck you, babe!” Brian swatted at Patrick. Patrick, who was definitely not jauntily tilting his beloved’s crown whenever the opportunity struck, turned to face Griffin, face dramatic and his pout activated.  
  


Griffin snorted.

“I absolutely cannot condone this clownery. Plus, we’ll have plenty of time to do that later—”

Patrick (who can definitely dish it out but not at all take it) frantically turned his head to the royal scribe in the room.

“Uh—”

Clayton’s expression was the pinnacle of “not mad, just disappointed” with a hint of amusement peeking at his lips as they twitched.

“Your majesties, I just need ten minutes to compose the invitations. I was under the impression that you wanted to help, make it personal, but we can go back to the template if—”

“Psh,” Brian lazily waved his hand around, shooting Clayton a wink. “I’ll be damned if I’m not as extra as possible.” Clayton, with the longsuffering patience of someone who had grown up with the prince, narrowed his eyes before he turned back to his parchment.  
  


“_Clearly_,” Patrick had to get the last word in, much to Brian’s genuine delight, especially when Griffin subtly tried to give their mutual boyfriend a high five. The longing to be touched outweighed the Very Good bit, and Pat intertwined his hands with both of his boyfriends. A zap of something unknown passed between them, seemingly having emanated from the rings on their fingers.

And they lived happily ever after.

* * *


End file.
